Of Shattered Fates
by BleedingNightshade
Summary: It was suppose to be Fate. The first words said to you, to show who your soulmate was. Love is messy though, and Fate can be fickle. It can be tangled, cut, and reformed. Some rejected their marks, others embraced them. Even more had their hearts broken by their soulmate, and other were blank, devoid of any mark. The question that haunts them all, is Fate undeniable?


Honestly not sure if I will continue this story. I find 'soulmate marks' a lot when I'm looking for prompts (that and the Hanahaki Disease) and I always told myself I would write those prompts sooner or later. So this fandom gets my try at the 'soulmate mark' prompt. Not happy with it completely but I don't hate it either. I could see this being a full story, and this was suppose to be the 'start' of it all, but again. Not sure if I will continue this.

**_Disclaimer ~_**

Nope, nowhere near do I own Aoharu x Machinegun. My knowledge of airsoft guns is fault at best. NAOE owns it all, and I don't even know what person/company that is.

Fair Warning - Brief mention of self-harm

* * *

It as suppose to be a stroke of fate. There was no need to wonder if they were '_the one_' because somewhere in the stars, it was already decided for you.

Some argued it was a God, matching up soulmates and bringing fates together. Others argued that there was a scientific explanation, playing on words the human would respond to, and biological features. Whatever the reason, the marks were dubbed 'soulmate inscriptions'.

Some embrace them. It was freeing to knowing you could date someone, with no commitment. Others waited for their soulmate, sometimes wasting away as the years passed.

It was common for people to even reject their soulmates. Their reasons were various. Some didn't want their fates controlled, while others didn't like, or feared, what was written on them.

There was even a rare few that were blank, devoid of any marks to indicate their future.

The marks themselves were as wild as the people who bore them. Everybody was born with an instinctive knowledge of where the marks would appear, but sometimes it took months, if not decades, for the marks to emerge.

To some, the words appeared like a tan line, slowly growing darker over time. Others had marks which looked burned into their skin, or like a newborn, pink birthmark. More common than not, they were simply black, as if made by the stroke of a pen. They were suppose to represent the base of your soulmate, the side they could never hide from you.

For Hotaru Tachibana, her mark was hidden on her chest, under her left breast. It followed the natural curve of the muscle, or it would, if her breast ever decided to grow. At the young age of sixteen, she still held the body of a preteen boy. The words had developed in her early teens, swiftly and painfully. It had seared across her skin like a burn, and even now, several years later, it still throbbed like a dull cut.

_'Are you looking for something?'_ was carved in black, with ragged slices as if from the stroke of a knife.

Unlike a few rare people, her words were not unique. She had heard them dozens of times, from dozen of different people. Young Hotaru was left in a state of wondering, forever questioning if that was her soulmate that passed her by.

There was a part of her that wanted to know the man or woman behind her words. To have a love as deep as her parent's, who had been together since they found out about each others marks.

There was another part of her, that feared the person behind the words. The way the words were carved, and the pain behind each stroke, told her that her soulmate may not be a nice person. Hotaru even feared it was a villain, a person she would have to reject, perhaps even destroy.

`•.¸¸.•´´¯`•• .¸¸.•´¯`

In his spare time, Midori liked to compare and contrast his marks. He was an extraordinary individual, if he did say so himself. A remarkable gentleman, the best doctor, an empowering dominant, and a skilled gunman. It made sense to him _now_, that he was destined for more than an average man. Thus, the world had decided that he needs two soulmates.

_'I-I have no intention of jumping'_ was sprawled in trembling writing across his left forearm.

He had been overjoyed when those words had appeared with black strokes on his arm, when he was a young boy. It was fate, that they started to appear at same time that he had started to watch young Masamune, his natural curiosity drawing him to the depressed boy. He had known, without a doubt, that this was his soulmate. At the time, he had believed it was his only soulmate.

There was some _complications_, which all relationships had. Masamune was just not ready for Midori. He was too soft, too gentle, for the dominant man that Midori was becoming.

To make it more complicated, his mark changed several years later. Masamune's words faded, becoming a light golden against his tan skin, instead of the black ink. On his right forearm, new words were forming. Midori was confused, angry, and yet relieved. Perhaps there was a mistake. Masamune wasn't his soulmate. It would make sense, Midori would destroy Masamune while pursuing their relationship.

So fate was fixing itself.

It took several years. The words grew slowly, and painfully. Sometimes they were warm, like sun kissed skin, and other times they burned like a fresh brand. It took several years before the small, wild, feminine words became legible. _'I'm actually here to look for a gun!'_

Whoever it was, had a strong will. Midori liked them already. They were already better suited for him. So he abandoned Masamune, willing to wait for his new soulmate, as his current mark faded.

How wrong Midori had been.

Now he knew, and he understood. Both marks were still visible, an equal contrast to each other. Indeed, he was a man who needed two soulmates to satisfy him. What an exciting thought.

`•.¸¸.•´´¯`•• .¸¸.•´¯`

Masamune pressed a warm cloth to his inner thigh, hoping to slow down the bleeding before it ruined another set of clothes. He knew it was childish to continue such actions. He knew that it wouldn't make them go away. He had tried, many times before. Still, no matter how scarred his body became, the words always appeared again.

_'If you want to die'_ was flourished on his scars in cursive, with an appearance that contradicted the words and the person behind them.

For a long time, those words were the only thing to keep his will strong. It was those words that comforted him, when his mother left. It was those words, despite how dark they were, that gave him hope to keep living another day. It was a sign that he was not destined to be alone, that somebody, somewhere, needed him.

Afterwards, it was Midori he followed. His companion, his friend, his light. _His soulmate._ The man who taught him that he wasn't alone.

When the rejection came, it seared like a knife. It wasn't meant to go that way. Soulmate were absolute, but then, he had once thought the bond between child and parent were absolute too, and he saw how easily that bond could be broken.

Maybe, he was destined to be alone. Fate was too fickle to give him a happy ending. The first time he cut into his words, he figured it would be the end of it. But as the slash healed, and the scar set in, the words came back. Nothing made them go away, for he was destined and tied to a man who did not want him.

Afterwards it became an unhealthy way of coping. To defy fate, to hurt Midori, to show he was in control of his destiny, he could attack his soulmate's words. It wouldn't change anything. The words would never go away, but it was enough defiance for him to keep moving.

`•.¸¸.•´´¯`•• .¸¸.•´¯`

Yukimaru was a unique individual, and not in a socially acceptable way. He was not fit, though he was not fat either. He had no social skills, outside of those used to minisculely interact with society. He did not keep himself to a high standard of dressing, and often wore what was clean and comfortable, no matter how mismatched it looked or how drastically the outfit hung off his body. He was even called a pervert, for reasons he did not fully comprehend.

He didn't care what society thought of him and he never had. He didn't care about soulmates, or what the words meant. He didn't believe in fate, or destiny. Perhaps it was for the best, as fate didn't believe in him either.

His body was blank. He never experienced the sensations that other described. There was no tingling, or burning. No warmth or ice. He didn't notice a particular part of his body more than another. He was whole, with no marks on him, other than the ones he put on himself.

Unlike others, he didn't guard this as a secret. He was open about his body. There was no marks, no soulmate destined to live their life around him. He was free to choose his own destiny.

The reaction he got was mostly of pity. They were sad for him. How could somebody be destined for nobody? Others feared the worse. His words were missing because his soulmate was dead. They were sad, for somebody they had never met. Someone who would never exist in Yukimaru's mind.

It was why he avoided society. It was too judgmental. It didn't make sense to him. Why grieve? Why feel sorry? It was his 'mark'. His life to grieve, and he did not feel unhappy.

If Fate forgot about him, it was a freedom. It left him with a choice, and opportunity to pursue his own destiny. If nobody was to be forced upon him, then Yuki could choose his soulmate. It was freeing, to have a choice.

`•.¸¸.•´´¯`•• .¸¸.•´¯`

Soulmates were meant to be absolute. A clear destiny, tying one person to another. Akin to the red string out fate, it would always be there, even if it was unseen or ignored.

Fate had an odd way of working though, and humans were too unpredictable.

Some people embraced their marks. Masamune had embraced his mark, and his soulmate. It was a decision he deeply regretted.

Others, live in fear of the what their words could mean, or the person behind them. Hotaru spent her days imaging her soulmate, and the reasons behind her marks odd behavior.

Other rejected their marks, following a destiny only for them. Some regretted this decision, as life continued on. Midori knew Masamune would come back when he commanded it. It was the nature of their relationship. So he could not regret his decision to send Masamune away, but he knew the damage done was not a slight bruise either. Yet, he first wanted to embrace his second soulmate. To see what fiery soul would compliment him and his gentle Masamune, before submitting his injured soulmate once again.

Other, were free of Fate's burden, never know to the pain or joy of such a mark. Yuki was capable of deciding his own destiny, and finding his own companion, as long as the tangle strings of Fate were not bothered.

Sometimes Fate was a blessing. A gift beyond our understanding. For others though, Fate was a fickle bitch, writing a story that had no determined outcome.

* * *

For those curious, or those who could not keep up with my tangled/messed-up brain, below were my guidelines for this prompt. Of course, I didn't get to all the bonds, or the full story.

Tachibana - Midori (Tachibana Rejected)

Matsuoka - Midori (Midori Rejected/Embraced, Matsuoka Yearns)

Yukimura - (Blank)

Midori - Techibana (Embraced) & Matsuoka (Embraced/Rejected/Embraced)

Fujimoto - Akabane (Rejected)

Akabane - Fujimoto (Rejected)


End file.
